Chapter VI: Part 6

The whole of the princes who were in Paris, except the king and his children, namely, the king of Sicily, the dukes of Berry, Burgundy and Bourbon, the marquis du Pont, the counts de Nevers, de Clermont, de Vendôme, de St Pol, de Dammartin, the constable of France and several others, having assembled, with a large body of the clergy and nobles, and a multitude of the citizens of Paris, went in a body to the church of the Guillemins. Then the principal officers of the late duke’s household took the body, and bore it out of the church with a great number of lighted torches carried by the esquires of the defunct. On each side of the body were, in due order, uttering groans and shedding tears, the king of Sicily, the dukes of Berry, Burgundy and Bourbon, each holding a corner of the pall.

After the body followed the other princes, the clergy and barons, according to their rank, recommending his soul to his Creator,—and thus they proceeded with it to the church of the Celestins. When a most solemn service had been performed, the body was interred in a beautiful chapel he himself had founded and built. After the service, all the princes, and others who had attended it, returned to their homes.

Many suspicions were formed, as to the authors of this assassination of the duke of Orleans; and at first it was thought to have been perpetrated by sir Aubert de Canny, from the great hatred he bore the duke, for having carried off his wife[111], by whom he had a son, of whom, and his education, I shall say more hereafter. The truth was soon known who were the guilty persons, and that sir Aubert was perfectly innocent of the crime.

The queen Isabella was so much alarmed the day she heard of this murder being committed thus near her hôtel, that, although she was not recovered from her lying in, she had herself carried by her brother Louis of Bavaria, and others, to a litter, and thence conveyed to the hôtel de St Pol, where she was lodged in the adjoining chamber to that of the king, for her greater security.

The night this murder was committed the count de St Pol and many others of the nobility armed themselves, and went to the hôtel de St Pol, where the king resided, not knowing how far these matters might be carried.

When the body of the duke of Orleans had been interred, as has been related, the princes of the blood assembled at the hôtel of the king of Sicily, with the council of state, whither the provost of Paris and others of the king’s lawyers were summoned, and ordered by the princes to make the most diligent inquiries, by every possible means, after the perpetrators and accomplices of this base act. All the gates of Paris were commanded to be closed, except two, and those to be well guarded, that all who might pass them should be known.

Having given these orders, the lords and the council retired to their hôtels in much sorrow and grief. On the morrow, the council was again assembled at the king’s palace of St Pol, in the presence of the king of Sicily, the dukes of Berry, Burgundy and Bourbon, and other great lords. On the entrance of the provost of Paris, he was asked by the duke of Berry what measures he had taken to discover the murderers of so great a prince as the king’s brother. The provost replied, that he had used all diligence in his researches, but in vain,—adding, that if the king and the great lords present would permit him to search their hôtels, and those of other great lords in Paris, he made no doubt but that he should discover the murderers and their accomplices. The king of Sicily, and the dukes of Berry and Bourbon, gave him instant orders to search wherever he pleased.

The duke of Burgundy, hearing such positive orders given, began to be alarmed, and, drawing king Louis and his uncle, the duke of Berry, aside, briefly[112] confessed to them what he had done, saying, that by the temptation of the devil he had committed the murder by means of Auctonville and his accomplices[113]. The two princes were so much astonished and grieved at this confession that they were scarcely enabled to make him any reply, but what they did say was reproving him bitterly for having committed so base an act against his cousin-german[114].

After this confession of the duke of Burgundy, they returned to the council-chamber, but did not immediately declare what had passed between them,—when the council broke up, and all retired to their hôtels.

On the ensuing day, which was Saturday, the lords before mentioned again assembled at ten o’clock in the morning, at the hôtel de Neelle, where the duke of Berry resided, to hold another council. The duke of Burgundy came thither as usual, attended by the count Waleran de St Pol; but when he was about to enter the council-chamber, the duke of Berry said to him, ‘Fair nephew, do not now enter the council-chamber, for it is displeasing to all the members that you should come among them.’ On saying this, the duke of Berry re-entered the council-chamber, ordering the door to be closed, according to the resolutions of the council.

The duke of Burgundy was greatly confused at this,—and being unresolved how to proceed, said to the count de St Pol, ‘Good cousin, what should I do?’ The count replied, ‘My lord, you have only to return to your hôtel, since it is not agreeable to the lords of the council that you should sit among them.’ The duke said, ‘Good cousin, return with me, to bear me company;’ but the count answered, ‘My lord, you must excuse me; for I shall go to the council, since I have been summoned to attend it.’

After these words, the duke of Burgundy, in great fear, returned to his hôtel of Artois; and to avoid being arrested, on his arrival there, he mounted a fresh horse, and, attended by six men, hastily quitted Paris by the gate of Saint Denis,—and only changing horses, but not stopping at any place, he travelled onwards until he reached his castle of Bapaume. When he had slept some little, he again continued his route with all speed to Lille in Flanders. Those whom he had left in his hôtel at Paris followed him as speedily as they could, to avoid being imprisoned, of which they were greatly afraid.

In like manner, Rollet d’Auctonville and his accomplices changed their clothes, and disguised themselves, and escaped from Paris by different ways, and went to quarter themselves in the castle of Lens in Artois, by orders of their lord and master John duke of Burgundy.

With so mean an attendance did this duke quit Paris, after the death of the duke of Orleans, leaving the great lords of France in the utmost tribulation and distress.

When those of the household of the late duke of Orleans heard of the secret departure of the duke of Burgundy, they armed themselves, to the amount of six score, having at their head sir Clugnet de Brabant, and, mounting their horses, sallied out of Paris in pursuit of the duke of Burgundy, with the intent of putting him to death, could they overtake him. The king of Sicily, learning their intentions, sent after to forbid them executing their plan,—on which they returned, very indignant, to their hôtels.

It was now publicly known throughout Paris that the duke of Burgundy had committed this murder; but the Parisians were not well pleased with the duke of Orleans, for they had learnt that he was the author of all the heavy taxes that oppressed them, and began to say among themselves in secret, ‘The knotty stick is smoothed.’

This melancholy event took place in the great winter of the year 1407, when the frost lasted for sixty-six days with the greatest severity. On the thaw, the new bridge at Paris was destroyed, and fell into the Seine; and the floods did very great mischief to many parts of the kingdom of France.

I have no need, in this chapter, to speak of the great hatred and jealousy that had taken place between the dukes of Orleans and Burgundy, prior to the death of the former, as it would occupy too much room; and besides, they will be fully spoken of in the proceedings which were shortly afterward instituted,—namely, in the justification which the duke of Burgundy proposed offering publicly, in the presence of the princes of the blood, the nobility, both ecclesiastical and secular, shewing the causes why he openly avowed being the author of the death of the duke of Orleans, and likewise from the answers which the dowager-duchess of Orleans and her children made in exculpation of the late duke,—which shall all be written in this present chronicle exactly in the manner in which they were proposed in the presence of the whole royal council, and great numbers of others of different ranks.

CHAP. XXXVII.

THE DUCHESS OF ORLEANS, WITH HER YOUNGEST SON, WAIT ON THE
KING IN PARIS, TO MAKE COMPLAINT OF THE CRUEL MURDER OF
THE LATE DUKE HER HUSBAND.

The late duke of Orleans had married the daughter of Galeazzo duke of Milan, his cousin-german, by whom he left three sons and one daughter,—namely, Charles, the eldest, who succeeded his father in the dukedom of Orleans; Philip, count de Vertus; John, count of Angoulême. The daughter was married to Richard of Brittany. We shall say more hereafter respecting these princes, and of the fortunes that befel them.

On the 10th day of December, the duchess of Orleans, widow to the late duke, with her youngest son John, and accompanied by the late queen of England, now wife to her eldest son, set out for Paris. The king of Sicily, the dukes of Berry and Bourbon, the counts of Clermont and Vendôme, the lord Charles d’Albreth, constable of France, and many other great lords, went out of the town to meet her, attended by a number of people and horses, and thus escorted her to the hôtel de St Pol, where the king of France resided. Being instantly admitted to an audience, she fell on her knees to the king, and made a pitiful complaint to him of the very inhuman murder of her lord and husband. The king, who at that time was in his sound senses, having lately recovered from his illness, raised her up with tears, and assured her he would comply with all her request, according to the opinion of his council. Having received this answer, she returned to the hôtel of Orleans, accompanied by the before-mentioned lords.

On the following Monday, the king of France, by the advice of his parliament, resumed in court the county of Dreux, Chastel-Thierry, and Mont d’Arcuelles, and all the lands which the king had given to his brother for his life.

On the Wednesday after St Thomas’s day, the duchess of Orleans, accompanied by her youngest son,—the queen of England, her daughter-in-law,—the chancellor of Orleans, and others of her council, with many knights and esquires, who had been of the household of the late duke, all clothed in black, came to the hôtel of St Pol to have an audience of the king. She found there the king of Sicily, the dukes of Berry and Bourbon, the chancellor of France, and several others, who, having demanded an audience for her of the king, instantly obtained it.

She was led into the presence by the count d’Alençon, and with many tears, and before all the princes, again supplicated the king that he would do her justice on those who had traitorously murdered her lord and husband, the late duke of Orleans. The whole manner of this deed she caused to be declared to the king by her advocate in the parliament; and the chancellor of Orleans was by her side, who repeated to the advocate word for word what she wished to have divulged.

She had explained at length the whole history of the murder: how he had been watched, and the hour and place where the assassins had fallen on him; and how he had been betrayed by a false message from his lord and brother the king, giving him to understand that the king had sent for him,—and ending with declaring that this murder more nearly touched the king than any other person. The advocate of the duchess concluded by saying, the king was bound to avenge the death of his brother, as well in regard to the duchess and her children, from their proximity of blood, as in respect to the offence which had been committed against justice and his royal majesty.

The chancellor of France, who was seated at the king’s feet, replied, with the advice of the dukes and lords present, that the king, having heard the detail of the murder of his brother, would, as speedily as possible, do strict and equal justice against the offenders. When the chancellor had said this, the king himself spoke, and said, ‘Be it known to all, that the facts thus exposed, relative to the death of our only brother, affect us most sensibly, and we hold the offence as committed against our own proper person.’

Upon this the duchess, her son John, and the queen of England, her daughter-in-law, cast themselves on their knees before the king, and, with abundance of tears, supplicated him to remember to do good justice on the perpetrators of the murder of his brother. The king raised them up, and, kissing them, again promised strict justice, and named a day for the enforcement of it. After these words they took their leave, and returned to the hôtel of Orleans.

On the second day ensuing, the king of France came from his palace to the chamber of parliament, which had been greatly adorned, and seated himself on the royal throne. He then published an act, in the presence of the dukes, princes, nobility, clergy, and commonalty of his realm, by which he ordained, that should he die before the duke of Acquitaine was of lawful age, notwithstanding this he should govern the kingdom,—and that all things should be conducted in his name by the three estates of the realm, until he should be arrived at the proper age to take the government into his own hands.

Should it happen that his eldest son should die before he came of age, he ordained that his second son, the duke of Touraine, should succeed him; and in like manner that his third son should succeed the duke of Touraine, on his death; but that until these princes should be of the proper age, the three estates should govern in their name.

These ordinances were very agreeable to the princes of the blood and council, and were confirmed by them. On the third day of January, the duchess of Orleans, for herself and children, did homage for the county of Vertus, and all the other lordships that had been held by her late husband. She took her oaths of fealty to the king himself, and, having taken her leave of him, quitted Paris a few days after, and returned with her state to Blois.

CHAP. XXXVIII.

THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY ASSEMBLES A NUMBER OF HIS DEPENDANTS,
AT LILLE IN FLANDERS, TO A COUNCIL, RESPECTING THE DEATH
OF THE DUKE OF ORLEANS.—HE GOES TO AMIENS, AND THENCE TO
PARIS.

When the duke of Burgundy was at Lille, he called to him the nobles, clerks, and others of his council, to have their opinion respecting the death of the late duke of Orleans,—and he was greatly comforted by the advice they gave him. He went thence to Ghent to his duchess, and there summoned the three estates of Flanders, to whom he caused the counsellor, John de la Sancson, to explain publicly the reasons, article by article, why he had caused the duke of Orleans to be put to death at Paris; and as he was desirous that the whole should be made as public as possible, he ordered copies to be given of his explanation to all who might be desirous of having them. He then demanded, that they would afford him their aid, in case any thing disagreeable should happen to him in consequence of what he had done; and the Flemings promised they would assist him willingly.

In like manner did those of Lille, Douay, and the inhabitants of Artois, after they had heard the reasons for this death, and the duke’s request of assistance against all the world, except the king of France and his children. The reasons he assigned for causing the duke of Orleans to be put to death were the same, or nearly the same, as those of master John Petit, when, by command of the duke of Burgundy, he publicly harangued at Paris, before the royal council, and which shall, hereafter, be very minutely given.

During this time, the king of Sicily and the duke of Berry sent messengers with letters to the duke of Burgundy at Lille, whither he was returned, to require that he would meet them without fail at Amiens, on an appointed day, which they made known to him, in order to confer and consult together on what was to be done respecting the death of the duke of Orleans.

The duke of Burgundy returned for answer, by the messengers, that he would not fail to meet them; and, in consequence, he requested of the states of Flanders and Artois to lend him a sum of money, which was granted to him.

He made grand preparations for his journey, and assembled a very considerable force. When the day appointed approached, in company with his two brothers, the duke of Brabant and count of Nevers, with many other noblemen and gentry, to the amount of three thousand, excellently armed, and attended by several of his council, he went from Arras to Corbie, and, on the appointed day, entered Amiens, and lodged at the house of a citizen called James de Hanghart. He caused to be painted over the door of this house two lances,—the one with a sharp pointed head, and the other with a blunt one,—which many of the nobles of his company said was meant to signify, that he was prepared for war or peace, accordingly as it might be determined on.

The weather was exceedingly severe at this season, and the country was covered with snow, insomuch that the king of Sicily and the duke of Berry, accompanied by about two hundred horse, on leaving Paris, were forced to employ great numbers of peasants with shovels to clear the road for them. They arrived at Amiens on the day fixed upon; and the duke of Burgundy, with his two brothers, magnificently attended, went out of the town to meet them,—and mutual respects were paid on each side.

The king of Sicily was lodged at the hôtel of the bishop, and the duke of Berry at St Martin les jumeaux. At the time that these two princes left Paris, the duke of Bourbon[115], and his son the count de Clermont, much grieved and melancholy at the death of the duke of Orleans, did the same, and returned to the duchy of Bourbon.

The king of Sicily and the duke of Berry had brought with them to Amiens some of the members of the royal council, to attempt, if possible, a reconciliation between the two parties of Orleans and Burgundy, for the advantage of the king and realm; but their attempts were vain, for duke John’s obstinancy was so great that he would no way consent to ask the king’s pardon, nor require any remission for what had passed. On the contrary, he maintained that the king and his council should feel themselves much obliged to him for what he had done.

In support of this conduct, he had brought with him three doctors in theology, of high fame and reputation in the university of Paris,—namely, master John Petit, who afterwards argued it publicly at Paris, and two others. They declared, in the presence of these two princes and the royal council at Amiens, that it was lawful for the duke of Burgundy to act as he had done, in regard to the duke of Orleans,—adding, that if he had not done it, he would have been greatly to blame; and they were ready to maintain these two propositions against all who should say to the contrary.

When the two parties had discussed this matter for some days, and when those sent by the king perceived they could not bring it to the conclusion wished for by them, namely peace, they broke up the conference, and took their departure to Paris, having first signified to the duke of Burgundy, in the king’s name, that he must not return to Paris until he was so ordered.

Duke John, however, plainly told them, he should pay no attention to this order; for that it was his intention to go to Paris as speedily as possible, to lay his charges and defence publicly before the king and the Parisians. On the morrow of the departure of the two princes, the duke of Burgundy, with his two brothers and those who had accompanied them, returned to the town of Arras, with the exception of Waleran count de St Pol, who remained for six days after them in Amiens.

When the king of Sicily and the duke of Berry, with the lords of the council, were returned to Paris, and had made their report to the king and princes, relating at length the answers which the duke of Burgundy had made, and that he had asserted the king ought to requite him in various ways for having caused the death and murder of the duke of Orleans, they were much disgusted and astonished at the great presumption and audacity of the duke of Burgundy.

It was talked of differently according to the bias of each party. Those of Orleans were much angered, and declared, that the king ought to assemble all his forces to subdue the duke of Burgundy, and punish him as his conduct deserved. While others, attached to the Burgundy-party, held a contrary opinion, thinking the duke had done a praise-worthy act toward the king and his family; and this was the opinion of the greater part of the Parisians, by whom the duke of Burgundy was much beloved. The cause of his popularity in Paris were the hopes they entertained, that through his means the heavy taxes with which they and all France were oppressed would be taken off,—which the duke of Orleans, when alive, had been so instrumental in imposing, because he had had a great share in them.

The duke of Burgundy went shortly after to Flanders, and summoned a great number of his nobles, gentry and men at arms, to prepare themselves to accompany him to Paris,—notwithstanding the king of Sicily and the duke of Berry had forbidden him, in the king’s name, to come thither until further orders. He did not, however, pay any attention to this command, but advanced, by short journeys to St Denis, whither the king of Sicily, and the dukes of Berry and Brittany, and several of the king’s council, came to visit him,—and again forbade him, in the king’s name, to enter Paris, if accompanied by more than two hundred men.

The duke of Burgundy, on this, quitted St Denis, in company with his brother the count de Nevers, his brother-in-law the count de Cleves, and the duke of Lorraine, with a very large body of men well armed, and entered Paris, with the intent of justifying his act and his quarrel with the late duke of Orleans, as well before the king as before all who might think proper to demand it of him.

The Parisians shewed great joy on his entering the town; and even little children sung carols in all the squares, which much displeased the king, the queen, and the princes then in Paris. He dismounted at his hôtel d’Artois, and was, in truth, greatly beloved by the common people; for they believed he was much attached to the good of the kingdom, and to the general weal. This made him more popular than the other princes of the blood,—and the people freshly remembered the heavy taxes that had been laid on them since the death of the late duke Philip of Burgundy, and principally, as they thought, by means of the duke of Orleans, who was exceedingly unpopular with them; and they considered his death, and the being delivered from his government, as a peculiar mark of God’s grace, not foreseeing what was afterward to befal them and the whole kingdom of France.

When the duke of Burgundy had been some days in Paris, and had learnt from his friends and partisans how he was to conduct himself, he found means to obtain an audience of the king, when the princes, clergy and people should be present, to hear his justification of the murder of the late duke of Orleans.

He went to the appointed place of audience well armed, and escorted by the princes and lords whom he had brought with him, and great crowds of Parisians. During his stay at Paris he was always armed, to the surprise of the other princes and members of the royal council, who were afraid to say any thing disagreeable to him, from his popularity with the citizens, and because he was ever surrounded by men at arms, and had his hôtel full of them; for he had quartered there the whole, or the greater part, of those whom he had brought with him. He had also a strong tower constructed of masonry[116], in which he slept at nights, and his chamber was strongly guarded. The justification of the duke now follows, and shall be literally given, as delivered by doctor John Petit.

CHAP. XXXIX.

THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY OFFERS HIS JUSTIFICATION, FOR HAVING
CAUSED THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF ORLEANS, IN THE PRESENCE
OF THE KING AND HIS GREAT COUNCIL.

On the 8th day of March, in the year 1407, duke John of Burgundy offered his justification for having caused the death of the late duke of Orleans, at the hôtel de St Pol at Paris, by the mouth of master John Petit, doctor of theology. There were present, in royal state, the duke of Guienne[117], dauphin of the Viennois, eldest son and heir to the king of France, the king of Sicily, the cardinal de Bar[118], the dukes of Berry, Brittany and Lorraine, and many counts, barons, knights and esquires, from divers countries, the rector of the university, accompanied by a great many doctors and other clerks, and a numerous body of the citizens of Paris and people of all ranks.

John Petit[119] opened his speech in the manner following. ‘In the first place,’ said he, ‘the duke of Burgundy, count of Flanders, of Artois and of Burgundy, doubly a peer of France, and dean of the french peerage, comes hither, with all humility, to pay his reverence to his royal majesty, like an obedient subject,—to which he is bounden by four obligations, according to the decisions of the doctors of civil and canon law. The first of these obligations is,—‘Proximi ad proximum qua quisque tenetur proximum non offendere. Secunda, est cognatorum ad illos quorum de genere geniti vel procreati sunt qua tenetur parentes suos non solum non offendere, sed etiam deffendere verbo et facto. Tertia, est vassalorum ad dominum qua tenentur non solum non offendere dominum suum, sed deffendere verbo et facto. Quarta est, non solum non offendere dominum suum, sed etiam principis injurias vindicare.’

‘Now, my lord of Burgundy is a good Catholic, a prudent man, a lord of a godly life in the Christian faith, and likewise nearly connected to the king,—by which he is bound to love him as himself, and to be careful to avoid giving him any offence. He is his relation by blood, so near as to be his cousin german, which not only obliges him to be attentive not to give him offence, but on the slightest ground to defend him by speech against all who might intend to injure him. Thirdly, he is his vassal, and is therefore bound to defend him not only by words, but by deeds, with all the united strength of his power. Fourthly, he is his subject, by which he is obliged not only to defend him by word and deed against his enemies, but is bound to avenge him on such as commit, or do intend to commit, and contrive any evil attempts against his person, should such come to his knowledge.

‘Beside these obligations, he is also bounden to his royal majesty, from the daily honours and presents he is in the habit of receiving from him,—and not only as his relation, vassal and subject, as has been stated, but as his very humble knight, duke, count and peer of France; not only a peer of France from two claims, but also the dean of the peerage, which, next to the crown, is the highest rank and prerogative in the kingdom of France.

‘The king has likewise had such an affection for him, and shewn him such great honour as to make him father-in-law to the most noble and potent lord the duke of Guienne and dauphin of the Viennois, his eldest son and heir, by his marriage with the eldest daughter of my lord the duke, and has added to this honour by the marriage of the princess Michelle of France with the eldest son of my aforesaid lord of Burgundy; and as St Gregory says, ‘Cum crescunt dona et rationes donorum,’ he is obliged to defend him from every injury within his power. This he has acknowledged, does acknowledge, and will acknowledge (if it please God), and will ever retain in his heart the remembrance of these obligations, which are twelve in number,—namely, those of neighbour, relation, vassal, subject, baron, count, duke and peer, count and peer, duke, and dean of the peerage, and these two marriages.

‘These twelve obligations bind him to love, serve and obey the king, and to do him every personal reverence and honour, and not only to defend him against his enemies, but to exercise vengeance against them. In addition, that prince of noble memory, my late lord of Burgundy his father, when on his death-bed, commanded him, above all things, to behave most loyally, honourably, justly and courageously toward the person of the king of France, his children and his crown; for he greatly feared his enemies would practise to deprive him of his crown, and that after his decease they would be too strong for him. It was for this reason, that when on his death-bed, he insisted on his sons resisting every attempt of the sort.

‘The wise and determined conduct of my lord duke of Berry, in conjunction with my above-mentioned deceased lord, must not be forgotten, in their government of the kingdom, so that not even the slightest suspicion was ever formed against them.

‘For these reasons, my lord of Burgundy could not feel greater grief of heart, or more displeasure, than in doing any thing respecting the late duke of Orleans that might anger the king. The deed that has been done was perpetrated for the safety of the king’s person, and that of his children, and for the general good of the realm, as shall be so fully hereafter explained that all those who shall hear me will be perfectly satisfied thereof.

‘My lord of Burgundy, therefore, supplicates the king to withdraw from him any hatred he may have conceived against him, and that he would show him that benignity and grace due to his loyal vassal and subject, and to one nearly related to him as he is by blood, while I shall explain the causes of justification of my lord of Burgundy, in consequence of his commands, which I cannot refuse, for the two following reasons:

‘In the first place, I am bound by my oath, given to him three years ago, to serve him. Secondly, on his perceiving that I had very small benefices, he gave me annually a considerable pension that I might continue my studies at the schools, which pension has furnished the greater part of my expenses, and will continue, under his good favour, so to do.

‘When, however, I consider the very high importance of the matter I have to discuss, and the great rank of the persons to whom I am to address myself, and, on the other hand, when I feel how weak I am in understanding, memory and language, I am seized with apprehension and fear, so that what abilities and remembrance I may have had are fled. I have no other remedy, therefore, but to recommend myself to God my Creator and Redeemer, to his glorious mother, and to my lord St John the evangelist, the prince of Theologians, that they would have the goodness to guard me from saying or doing any thing wrong, in following the advice of my lord St Austin, who says, ‘Libro quarto de doctrina Christiana circa finem; sive apud populum vel apud quoslibet jamiamque dicturus, sive quod apud populum dicendum vel ab eis qui voluerint aut potuerint legendum est dictaturus, oret ut Deus sermonem bonum det in os ejus. Si enim regina Hester oravit pro suæ gentis salute temporali locutura apud regem ut in os ejus Deus congruum sermonem daret, quanto-magis orare debet, ut tale munus accipiat qui pro æterna hominum salute in verbo et doctrina laborat,’ &c.

‘And because the matters I am to treat of are of such very great moment, it does not behove so insignificant a person as myself to speak of them, nor indeed to open my lips before so august and solemn an assembly. I therefore very humbly entreat you, my noble lords, and the whole company, that should I utter any thing improper, it may be attributed to my simplicity and ignorance, and not to malice; for the Apostle says, ‘Ignorans feci: ideoque misericordiam consecutus sum.’

‘I should be afraid to speak of such things as my subject will lead me to, and which I am charged to say, were it not for the commands of my lord of Burgundy.—After this, I now protest that I intend no injury whatever to any person, whether he be alive or dead; and should it happen that some parts of my speech seem to bear hard for or in the name of my lord of Burgundy, I pray that I may be held excused, as it will proceed from his commands, and in his justification, and not otherwise.

‘But some one may put a question to me, saying, Does it belong to a theologian to offer such justification, in preference to a lawyer? I reply, that it certainly does not belong to me, who am neither a theologian nor a lawyer; but to satisfy those who may think such a question proper, I shall say, that were I a theologian, it might become a duty under one consideration, namely, that every doctor in theology is bounden to labour in excusing and justifying his lord, and to guard and defend his honour and good name, according to the truth, particularly when his aforesaid lord is good and loyal, and innocent of all crimes.

‘I prove this consideration to be true, from the duty attached to doctors in theology to preach and say the truth at all times and in all places. They are likewise styled ‘Legis divinæ professores quia inter omnes alios doctores ipsi magis tenentur profiteri veritatem.’ Should they die for having uttered the truth, they become true martyrs.

‘It is not therefore to be wondered at, if I offer my poor abilities in the justification of my before-mentioned lord, since he has afforded me the means of pursuing my studies, and, if God please, will continue so to do. If ever there were a proper time and place to bring forward the justification of my lord of Burgundy, it is at this moment, and before this assembly; and such as may find fault with me for so doing are, I think, to be blamed, for every man of honour and good sense will hold me excused. In the hope, therefore, that no one will bear me ill will for this justification, I shall produce an authority for it from St Paul.

‘ON COVETOUSNESS.

‘‘Radix omnium malorum cupiditas, quam quidem appetentes erraverunt a fide,’ 1 Tim. vi. which may be thus translated, Covetousness is the root of all evil; for the moment any one is in her net, he follows her doctrine:—she has even made apostates of some who have been too much seduced by her. This proposition contains three dogmas: first, that covetousness is the motive of all evil to such as she has entangled by her wiles; secondly, that she has caused many apostates, who, having denied the catholic faith, have turned to idolatry; thirdly, that she has made others traitors, and disloyal to their kings, princes, and lords paramount.

‘These three propositions I shall bring forward as my major, and then add a minor, for the complete justification of my said lord of Burgundy. I may indeed divide these into two parts; the first consisting of my major, and the second of my minor. The first will comprehend four others, and discuss the first subject of my theme,—the second the second,—and the third the third. In the fourth article, I propose to bring forward some facts as the ground-work of my lord’s justification.

‘In regard to the first article, that covetousness is the root of all evil, I may bring forward an instance to the contrary from the holy Scriptures, which declares, ‘Initium omnis peccati superbia.’ Eccles. x. ‘Ergo, non est cupiditas radix omnium malorum.’

‘Since the holy church says that pride is the foundation of sin, covetousness is not the root of all evil,—and thus the words of St Paul do not seem true. In answer to this I say, from St John the evangelist, ‘Nolite diligere mundum nec ea quæ in eo sunt. Si quis diligit mundum, non est charitas Patris in eo: quoniam omne quod est in mundo aut est concupiscentia carnis, aut oculorum, aut superbia vitæ, quæ non est ex Patre sed mundo: et mundus transibit, et concupiscentia carnis; sed qui facit voluntatem Dei vivet in æternum.’

‘That is to say, Do not love the world, nor place your sole happiness in worldly things; for the pleasures of this world consist in covetousness and in a love of the flesh,—in the pursuit of worldly riches and vain honours, which are not the passions given us by God. All worldly things are transitory,—and the world dies and its desires with it; but he who does the will of God will enjoy everlasting glory with him.

‘It appears clearly from this quotation from St John that there are three sorts of covetousness, which include within them every sin, namely, covetousness of vain honours,—covetousness of worldly riches,—covetousness of carnal delights; and it was thus understood by the Apostle when he said, ‘Radix omnium malorum cupiditas.’

‘Covetousness being understood to appear in the three forms aforesaid, and mentioned by St John,—the first of which is that of vain honours, which is nothing more than a wicked desire, and a disordered inclination to deprive another of his honours or lordships,—this passion is called by St John _superbia vitæ_, and contains within it every vice, namely, pride, vain-glory, anger, hatred and envy; for when he who is possessed by this passion cannot accomplish his will, he becomes enraged against God, and against those that stand in his way, and thus commits the sin of anger, which increases soon against the person in possession of the aforementioned superiority, to so great a degree that he practises to put him to death.

‘The second covetousness is called ‘the covetousness of worldly riches,’ which is the passion to take away from another his wealth and moveables, and is called by the evangelist _concupiscentia oculorum_. It includes within it usury, avarice, and rapine.

‘The third covetousness is the _concupiscentia carnis_, which is merely disorderly desires for carnal delights, or perhaps indolence; as, for example, when a monk or other religious cannot endure to go to matins, because he is more comfortable in his bed. Sometimes it consists in gluttony, as when any one devours too much meat or wine, because they are pleasing to his tongue and savoury to his palate. At other times, it may shew itself in luxury, and in other shapes and manners which it is unnecessary to explain.

‘My first article is therefore clear, when I said, that ‘covetousness was the root of all evil,’ if we understand it as the apostle did, when he said, ‘Radix omnium malorum cupiditas: et hoc de primo articulo hujus primæ partis.’

‘To enter on the subject of the second article of my major, I shall take it for granted that the greatest possible crime on earth is the crime of high treason, for the highest honour under heaven consists in the royal majesty. Can there then be a greater crime than any injury offered to the royal majesty? As this crime, therefore, is the deepest, the punishment of it should be the most severe.

‘There are two sorts of kingly dignity,—the one divine and perpetual, the other human and temporal; and in like manner, there are two kinds of high treason,—the first the crime of treason against the divine, and the second against the human majesty. That of high treason against the divine majesty may be again divided into two parts; first, when an injury is offered personally to our Sovereign Lord God and Creator, such as heresy and idolatry; secondly, when they are committed against the spouse of our holy Lord God JESUS CHRIST,—namely the holy Church, and when any schism or division is introduced within it. I therefore mean to say, that heretics and idolaters commit the crime of high treason in the first degree, and schismatics in the second.

‘The crime of human high treason may be divided into four degrees: first, consisting of offences done personally against the prince,—of offences done to the person of the queen, his spouse,—of such as are done personally against their children,—and fourthly, of injuries done to the public state. As the crime of high treason has been ever considered as one of the most atrocious, the laws have ordained much severer punishments against it than for any others. In cases of heresy and human high treason, a man may be accused after his death, and a process may be carried on against him: should he be convicted of heresy, his body is taken up from the grave, his bones put into a bag, carried to the place of execution, and burnt. In like manner, should any one be convicted after his decease of human high treason, his body is taken up from the grave, his bones put into a sack, all his wealth in land or moveables is confiscated to the prince, and his children declared incapable of holding lands or of succeeding to any property.

‘Having distinguished the crimes of high treason, I shall now proceed to prove the second article of my major by authorities and examples, namely, that covetousness has made many apostates, who have denied the catholic faith, and worshipped idols. I have found many instances to prove this, but it would take up too much time to relate the whole: I shall confine myself to three only.

‘OF JULIAN THE APOSTATE.

‘The first example is Julian the apostate, who was a Christian and a churchman; but to arrive at the imperial dignity of emperor of Rome, he denied the catholic faith and his baptism, and adored idols, telling the Christians, by way of colouring his apostacy, ‘Christus vere dicit in evangelio suo, Nisi quis renunciaverit omnibus que possidet, non potest meus esse discipulus.’ Saying, ‘You who wish to be Christians cannot possess any thing.’

‘You must know, that this Julian was a churchman, very learned, and of high descent; and it was said that he might, had he laboured for it, have been pope; but as the popedom was at that time in a state of poverty, he cared not for it,—and the imperial dignity being the highest in the world, he was very eager to obtain it by any means. Having considered that the pagans were sufficiently strong to refuse to be governed by any Christian, he denied his baptism and the catholic faith, and adopted the pagan religion in the adoration of idols. He also persecuted the Christians, and defamed the name of JESUS CHRIST, which he looked to as one means of succeeding to the empire.

‘The reigning emperor shortly after died; and the pagans, knowing that Julian was of high birth, great learning, and the most bitter persecutor of the Christians in the world, and who said more than anyone else against our holy mother the church, elected him emperor.

‘I will now tell you the horrible death that put an end to his days. During his government, the Persians rebelled against Rome. He collected a large army to subdue them, and swore on the altars of his damned gods, that should he return victorious, he would utterly destroy all Christendom. In the course of his march with the army, he passed a city called Cesarea, in the country of Cappadocia, where he met a very learned doctor in theology, who was bishop of that town, and who is now known by the name of St Basil.

‘He was an excellently good man, and, by means of the truth of his doctrines, all the inhabitants of that country were become Christians.

‘St Basil waited on the apostate Julian, made his obeisance to him, and presented him with three barley-loaves. The emperor was indignant at the present, and said, ‘Does he send me mare’s food? I will return the compliment by sending him horse-meat, namely, three bushels of oats.’

‘The good man excused himself, saying that it was such bread as he and those of that country eat. The emperor, however, swore, that on his return, he would destroy the town so completely that a plough should pass over the ground, and make a field of the spot where the town now stood, which field should bear wheat—‘Itaque juravit quod faceret eam farriferam et non austeram’—and marched on with his army.

‘St Basil and the Christians took counsel together how they could save the city from this threatened destruction, and imagined it would be best to offer the emperor all their jewels and treasure to appease his anger. They likewise proposed going in procession to a church of our Lady, situated on a mountain near the city, and to remain there for three days to pray to God to save them and their city from ruin.

‘On the third night, St Basil had a vision, in which he saw a great company of angels and saints assembled before a lady, who thus spoke to one of the saints, called the chevalier Mercure: ‘Thou hast always been a faithful servant to my son and to me; and on this account I command thee to go and kill the emperor Julian, that false apostate, who so bitterly persecutes the Christians, and says such infamous things of my son and me.’ She instantly restored Mercury to flesh and blood, who, like a good knight, took his lance and shield from the roof of the church where it had been affixed after his interment there, and went as he was commanded. When he overtook Julian, he thrust his lance through his body in the presence of his servants: having withdrawn his lance, he threw it across his neck, and none of the emperor’s attendants knew who he was.

‘St Basil, after this vision was ended, hastened to the church wherein was the tomb of the knight, and found neither body nor lance, nor shield. He called to him the keepers of the church, and asked them what was become of the lance and shield? They replied, that in the preceding night they had been carried away, but knew not how or by whom.

‘St Basil returned instantly to the mountain, and related his vision to the clergy and people, adding that he had just visited the church where the knight had been buried, but that neither his shield nor lance was to be found, which was a strong confirmation of the truth of the vision.

‘The whole town, shortly after this, visited the church; and the shield and lance were seen hanging to the roof, as formerly, over the tomb of the knight,—but the point of the lance was covered with blood.

‘It was imagined that this action had required but one day and two nights, and that on the second night the body had been replaced in the tomb, and the arms under the roof. The point of the lance was covered with the blood of Julian the apostate, as has been mentioned; and the chronicle adds, that when slain, he received the blood in his hand, saying, _Vicisti me Galilæe!_ that is to say, ‘Thou hast conquered me, Galilean!’ alluding to JESUS CHRIST, and throwing his blood in the air.

‘The same chronicle says, that one of the counsellors and sophists of this Julian had a similar vision respecting his miraculous death, and that he came to St Basil to be baptised, like a good Christian. He told him he had been present when the emperor was killed, and saw him throw his blood from his hand up into the air. Thus ended miserably the life of Julian the apostate.

‘We have another example in the monk Sergius, who was a Christian of the church, but through covetousness got admitted into the company of Mohammed, and became his apostle. This monk, considering that Mohammed was a great captain in the armies of Syria and other countries beyond sea, and that the principal lords of the country were almost all destroyed by the plague, leaving only children behind them, said to Mohammed, ‘If you will follow my advice, I will shortly make you the greatest and most respected lord in the universe.’

‘Mohammed consented to his proposals; and it was agreed that Mohammed should conquer the whole country by force of arms, and make himself lord of it. The monk was to renounce the Christian religion, and compose a new religious code, in the name of Mohammed. This was done; and all the countries of Arabia, Syria, Africa, Fez, Morocco, Granada, Persia, Egypt, with several others that had been Christians, were converted, or the greater part of them, to the religion of Mohammed, six hundred years after the incarnation of our Lord.

‘Mohammed gave to this monk great abundance of worldly riches, which his covetousness received to the eternal damnation of his soul.

‘The third example is that of the prince or duke of Simeon, one of the twelve tribes of the children of Israel. He was a very powerful prince, and his name was Zambry, and was so smitten with concupiscence, and carnal desires, for a pagan lady, who would not submit to his will unless he consented to adore her idols, that he apostatised, and not only adored idols himself, but induced many of his people and subjects to do the same. The holy Scriptures thus speak of him: ‘At illi comederunt et adoraverunt deos earum. Initiatusque est Israel Beelphegor. Et iratus Dominus ait ad Moysem, tolle cunctos principes populi, et suspende illos contra solem in patibulis, &c. et paulopost: et ecce unus de filiis Israel intravit coram fratribus suis ad scortum madianitem, &c. Quod cum vidisset surrexit de medio multitudinis Phinees, et arrepto pugione ingressus est post virum Israelitem in lupinar, et perfodit ambos simul in locis genitalibus. Et occisi sunt viginti quatuor millia hominum. Et sic Phinees placavit Deum. Et ideo innocentius inde miseria conditionis humanæ ait. Extrema libidinis turpitudo: quæ non solum mentem effæminat, sed etiam corpus aggravat. Omne namque peccatum quodcunque fecerit homo extra corpus est; qui autem fornicatur in corpus suum peccat.’

‘That is to say, This duke and a great part of his people committed fornication with pagan and saracen women of the country of Moab, who induced them to worship their idols. God was much angered thereat, and said to Moses, who was their sovereign commander, ‘Take all the princes of the people and hang them up on a gibbet in the face of the sun.’ ‘But why,’ said he, ‘hang all the princes?’ Because part of them were consenting to this crime, and the other part, though not following their example, were neglectful to avenge such heavy offences against God, their Creator.

‘Moses instantly assembled all the princes and people of Israel, and told them what God had commanded him. The people began to weep, because the offenders were so powerful the judges dared not condemn them,—and duke Zambry had full twenty-four thousand men of his tribe.